“Parents?” Walker asks.
There’s another bit of silence. “Nope. They were both born in the forties and married in the sixties.”
We sit there. I look around the closet, thinking about what this house is full of. “What about Nazi dates?”
There’s a hiss at the other end of the line. “These people…” RJ mutters.
“No kidding,” Walker mumbles.
A second later, though, RJ asks a question. “Do you think he’s the kind of guy who puts zeros before single-digit dates?”
I shrug, then realize they can’t see me. “No idea.”
“Okay, if he does, we have a choice between the start of World War II and the day Hitler came to power.”
I sit there, looking around. “He probably wouldn’t want to memorialize the beginning of the end of the Nazi movement, would he?”
“No, probably not,” Walker cuts in. “Give him the date for Hitler.”
“Simple first, then. January 30th, 1933.”
I press it in, and the safe immediately unlocks. “Well, that was equal parts easy and disgusting.”
“You’re in, then?” RJ clarifies.
“Yup.”
I pull out the highly compressible nylon backpack I shoved in my fanny pack, scooping out the jewels indiscriminately. “Pity we can’t keep some of these. Or return them to their rightful owners.”
“The police have experts for that,” RJ says.
“Yeah, but will they actually go through the steps?”
“No idea. But at this point, I don’t have the time, and they need to be repatriated. The cops are our best bet.”
Walker scoffs. “If they don’t, we can always take them back and do it ourselves.”
“True,” I say, shoving the last ring box into my bag.
I leave the door to the safe open, taking the eye shadow with me. Then I glance one last time at the note I left, hoping it’s a big enough taunt.
There needs to be chaos. Not vipers dressed as gentlemen. And hopefully this will stir up that nest.
Scratched across the page, my writing obviously not cultured, is the trigger. Hopefully.
Thank you for the wedding gifts.
Powerful men fight with words and manipulations in the dark.
We’re starting a war built for both sides to lose. One where we’ll be the only winners.
Chapter 46
Clara
I’m exhausted. Every night I’m startled awake by another nightmare, sweat dripping down my back. Trips is always awake, ready to hold me as my heart thunders in my ears.
I’m too much of a coward to ask if he’s not sleeping, or if I keep waking him up.
